Always
by kymby67
Summary: After jilting Edith Crawley at the altar, Anthony Strallan has been living the past ten years in Tuscany. Recently though, after receiving some unfortunate news, the baronet makes a decision to return to Yorkshire and his beloved estate Locksley.
1. Chapter 1

**In series 3, I can't help but be curious as to the reason for the pause before Anthony says "always" to Edith before turning and leaving the church. I feel that the word was meant to stand apart from "and may god bless you my dearest darling." I mean, he even leans in and lowers his voice as if trying to convey some special meaning intended only for Edith. Or, perhaps I'm just reading way too much into the jilting scene! Anyhow, thoughts and comments are always appreciated!**

 **Lines from canon belong to JF.**

Anthony Strallan sat in his library, staring vacantly out at the vast expanse of Locksley, still trying to process the unfortunate news he'd received earlier that morning. An ill-fated, though not unexpected, phone call from the specialist in London confirming that the baronet had, perhaps, six months to live. A few more, if, in the doctor's opinion, certainly not Anthony's, he were lucky. Cancer. A diagnosis the older gentleman had first received in Italy, where he'd hidden away for the past 10 years, following that dreadful day he'd jilted Lady Edith at the altar. And so, after fooling himself into thinking that his feelings for a certain strawberry blonde had diminished, the blue eyed baronet, wishing to live out the remainder of his days at his beloved Locksley, had sold the villa in Tuscany, all furnishings included. Well, everything, save for his books, his gramophone and beloved recordings, and the one possession most near and dear to his old heart, a collection of keepsakes and mementos. Precious belongings with which he refused to part, a self-made shrine of sorts to his time spent with Edith.

Once back in Yorkshire though, tortured by the bittersweet memories, the older gentleman thought that returning to his ancestral home was, quite possibly, a huge mistake. Edith was everywhere. He saw her sitting in the gardens, reading in the library, walking in the orchards, taking tea in the drawing room. Anthony was haunted as well by reminders of that fateful decision with which he had condemned himself to a life of loneliness and grief. And, the nightmares were back. Dark dreams filled with ghostly grooms, faceless brides, and cries of anguish. Anthony shuddered, he had no idea why Stewart insisted on remaining in his employ.

Yes, an array of memories abounded, but recently, the one that most occupied Anthony's mind these days was his final words spoken to the young woman who'd been his sweet one, _Goodbye my dearest darling, and may God bless you. **Always.**_ He'd often wondered if, once the initial shock and heartache of his betrayal had worn off, Edith had noted the significance of that final word. _**Always.**_ He hadn't a chance to talk privately with the young woman before the wedding. The couple, it seemed, was constantly being watched. Someone listening in on their conversation. And, it certainly wouldn't have been proper to speak freely of such personal feelings in a church filled with guests. And so, he'd chosen his last words carefully, hoping it would sound, to those in attendance, as though the tall blond were simply wishing that God would always bless her but that Edith, intelligent young woman that she was, catching the deliberate pause, as he leaned in to whisper the word meant only for her ears, would know the _**always**_ was meant to stand apart from all other sentiments the baronet had uttered. He'd wanted to convey in some small way, the depth of his love for her, as well as remind her why he felt the need to set her free. And so, with that one word, Anthony had willed the young woman to understand that although he had hurt her terribly, she must _**always**_ remember how he had told her, on more than one occasion, that, whether or not she believed it, he had _**always**_ known that she was special, not only to him but the world around her as well. That in this post war era, in which women were slowly being given more opportunity, he had _**always**_ stressed, that she had the potential to accomplish great things if only she'd step outside the boundaries that society placed upon her. He would _**always**_ be her champion, if not in body at least in spirit. He had **_always_** known that his loss would be the world's gain and he had been right. And, most of all, Anthony had wanted her to know she would _**always, ALWAYS,**_ have his heart.

Anthony sighed, so many times he'd wanted to write to Edith, explaining himself, just in case she hadn't fully understood the reasoning behind his actions. But most importantly, he'd wanted to make certain she was aware of all the different connotations and subtle nuances his _**always**_ had implied. Perhaps, it would be acceptable to write now. After all, she was settled with a family. Successful. And he, he was dying. Perhaps, she would reply, saying she'd forgiven him. At least then, he could face death with some degree of peace.

Picking up his pen, he began to write

 **I've completed an outline for this story but find I'm wondering whether folks in the Andith community would be interested in reading it. I'd appreciate your thoughts on whether or not to continue. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for all the encouraging comments on the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this update as well and while some repetition was bound to occur between Anthony's thoughts from chapter one and his letter here, I hope you won't find it too distracting. Downton belongs to JF.**

"Edith, there's a letter postmarked special delivery for you" Bertie Pelham told his wife as he sorted through the post.

"From who?" Edith inquired offhandedly, thoroughly engrossed in an article she was reading in the evening paper.

"There's no return address" her husband replied, glancing at both sides of the envelope as he handed it to the strawberry blonde, "although, it is postmarked, Ripon."

Reaching for the letter, the young woman gasped. No, she thought, it couldn't be. Not after all this time. But, although it had been nearly ten years since Edith had seen that familiar scrawl, she knew exactly who it belonged to.

Seeing his wife's reaction, the Marquess came to stand at her side, "I'm assuming you're able to recognize the sender's handwriting?"

"Yes" she slowly nodded, "it's Anthony Strallan's. Edith felt a sudden urge to defend the man she'd once loved with all her heart, "It's written with his left hand, you see. Before he was injured in the war, his penmanship was most remarkable."

"Anthony Strallan, isn't he the chap that..." Bertie paused, not wanting to stir up unpleasant memories.

"Yes" Edith replied nervously.

The envelope shook slightly in the young woman's hand, her heart pounding rapidly as her thoughts raced. If he had written, then this letter was certain to contain bad news. Oh no, dear God, no. Please, don't let it be. Anything but that, please, she silently prayed. Even after all this time, some small part of her had always assumed that one day the two would meet again. Make peace with their past, let by gones be by gones. As far as Edith was concerned, Anthony Strallan was a good man, one of the best, and neither a failed wedding nor anything or anyone would ever convince her otherwise. Of course the jilting had hurt deeply at the time, but eventually she'd come to terms with his decision and managed to move on with her life. Yes, it had taken some time but never, never had Edith wished him ill.

"Would you like me to give you some privacy" her husband asked, disrupting her chain of thought.

"What?"

"I thought, perhaps you'd prefer to read this in private." he motioned towards the missive.

"No, no, I'd rather not be alone, in case it's..." Edith took a deep breath, trying to work up the nerve to cut the envelope open, "bad news."

Ever so gently, Bertie retrieved the letter, swiftly sliced it open with a penknife and returned it to his now, slightly pale wife. Of course, Edith had told him about the failed wedding, and he'd been upset that she'd had to endure the heartache but he'd always felt rather sad for Anthony as well. To paraphrase an old saying, the baronet's unfortunate loss had been his gain.

Edith slid the stationary from the envelope, slowly unfolded the letter and, after an anxious look in Bertie's direction, began reading aloud.

 _Dearest Edith,_

 _I realize it must come as quite a shock to hear from me after all this time and I apologize for any disruption this letter may cause. I assure you, it was not any easy decision on my part to open up an old wound or to conjure up bitter memories, that I'm sure you've long since put to rest. But, regrettably, I've received a bit of unexpected news, and as a result, I've finally summoned the courage to contact you. You see, I've always entertained the foolish notion that some day our paths would cross and I would unburden my heart to you in person rather than on paper. And, you, being the kind gentle soul I know you to be, would forgive this old codger for the pain he caused you so many years ago. Unfortunately, sweet one, and yes, I'm painfully aware, I have no right to refer to you in such an intimate manner, but my heart begs you to indulge an old man because it seems Edith, for me, death is imminent. The doctors have informed me that I have but six months to live. Therefore, after nearly a decade's absence because I could not bear the memories which haunted me, I have returned to Yorkshire to spend my final days at the place on this earth, most dear to my heart, my beloved Locksley. And, I've found, those memories linger just as strongly as when I left, so, after much deliberation, I write, seeking not only your forgiveness but also hoping to bring some sort of closure and peace to the way I ended our relationship. Perhaps then I can face my impending demise with some semblance of dignity._

As Edith clutched her chest, a mournful wail escaped her lips and unable to read for the tears that filled her eyes, she handed the letter to Bertie.

"I've been so selfish" she sobbed, "all this time I've thought that I was the only one hurt by Anthony's actions. I've seen the joy in his face as we walked the fields of his estate. Heard the pride in his voice as he talked of modernizing in order to secure the legacy his forefathers had built. He loves Locksley as though it were his child. It is his child and he had to abandon it...because of me." Edith beagn weeping hysterically as the realization of just how much Anthony had loved her hit home, "he... gave up Locksley... for me!"

"Shall I finish reading it to you?" Bertie hesitantly asked a few moments later as Edith's sobs began to subside.

"Would you? Please."

 _Do you remember my last word to you sweet one? Not words, word._ _ **Always.**_ _A single word spoken with deepest sincerity and filled with subtle implications. And, it is my dying wish for you to understand the depth of meaning I hoped to relay to you with that one word._

 _I **always** believed you were destined for great things, sweet one. You were too well read, too well informed, too intelligent, and too fierce a young woman to be saddled with simply running a country manor such as Locksley. After the war Edith, so many opportunities were becoming available to resourceful young women such as yourself. I **always** knew you had the potential to accomplish great things, to make a difference in the world and I also knew, that to do so, you would need to step outside the boundaries that society and our class system placed upon on young women. That's why I had to let you go, my sweet. Had we married, you would have settled into the duties that our society expected you to fulfill as a wife and, hopefully, a mother and I'm sure you felt, at the time, that you would be quite content. But look at you now, at all that you've accomplished, as well as being a wonderful wife and mother. What a shame it would have been to deny the universe of the wonder that began as Edith Crawley and is now Edith Pelham! And, just as I've **always** suspected, my loss has become the world's gain._

 _I know it doesn't seem like it my dear girl but please know, I have **always** tried to put your interests ahead of my own and I have **always** only ever wanted what's best for you. Surely you are able to understand now, as I did then, that as a couple, we were **always** going to be faced with a certain amount of sacrifice. Better, I, to sacrifice my happiness for a short time, than for you to sacrifice your entire life. And, you mustn't believe it was easy. It is without a doubt the hardest thing I have ever done. I feel such remorse for having involved you in a pubic spectacle but it was the only way to ensure I'd follow through with my decision. And, yet still, I nearly faltered in the church as you pleaded so desperately. Surely, sweet one, you saw my resolve weakening as you spoke of us being so terribly happy together. But then your grandmother came forward and broke the spell with which you threatened, once again, to captivate me. I was not as immune to your charms has you may have thought, my dear and with only another word or two, I fear, you would have easily convinced me to follow through with the wedding rather than ending what certain members of your family referred to as, that Strallan nonsense. _

_Believe me, my sweet, when I say, my biggest regret has **always** been that I was unable to be the man you so deserved._

 _There's so much more I wanted to say, my dearest darling, but find I'm growing weary. It seems of late that I tire easily, so, in closing, I simply wish to say,_

 ** _Always..._**

 _I have **always** treasured the memories of the time we spent together. They have been a balm to my soul. A haven to which I have often retreated while enduring this cold and lonely existence of the past ten years._

 _I will **always** love you, sweet one. **ALWAYS.** In this life and the next._

 _You will **always, ALWAYS,** hold my heart._

 _You are **always** in my thoughts._

 _May your family be blessed **always** with health, happiness, and prosperity._

 _Now and for **always,** old and foolish man that I am, I remain, your Anthony._

 _With deepest devotion,_

 _A._

"Will you write to him" Bertie asked, handing the letter back to his wife.

"No" she replied, brushing away her tears, "I need to see him."


	3. Chapter 3

_"Will you write to him" Bertie asked, handing the letter back to his wife._

 _"No" she replied, brushing away her tears, "I need to see him."_

"See him?" the Marquis asked, although, he didn't seem the least bit surprised, "Are you sure?"

"If you asked me not to go, I wouldn't but I would regret it. I know the letter was very... personal in nature but Anthony would never have exposed his true feelings if he weren't..." Edith pursed her lips, willing herself to hold back the tears. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"First let me say, I'm quite secure in your love for me and trust you implicitly. Besides, the poor man is dying after spending the last ten years of his life alone and grieving with a broken heart. I only thought to spare you further pain, my dear."

"That's why I must go, in order to finally put an end to the hurt. To settle what was between us so that we both can have some measure of peace. You see, it's not so much about the failed wedding as it is the loss of a dear, a very dear friend. The one person who, at that time in my life, listened to and respected me. Before Anthony, I felt as though I were invisible. He noticed me, talked with me, and made me feel worthwhile rather than worthless. And now, he's...he's..." the strawberry blonde couldn't bring herself to utter the word, "and I won't allow him to face it alone."

"And you harbor no ill feelings towards him for leaving you?"

Edith was quiet for a moment, choosing her words carefully, "No, not anymore. Because of  
Anthony's decision, although he should never have made it without me, I have Marigold and you. I have a future, a husband, a family. Joyous gifts, which not so very long ago, I was certain I would never know. Anthony has nothing. In some small way, I hope, perhaps, to return a bit of that happiness. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes, yes it does, my love" Bertie smiled tenderly, "You have such a beautiful heart, my Edith. It's one of the many things I adore about you, darling."

"Please say you'll come with me."

"If you wish. Strange as it may seem, I find I'd rather like to meet the man. If you have no objection."

"You'll like him. The two of you are a bit similar in nature. Quiet, gentle, unassuming, intelligent."

 _Two weeks later..._

"Do you think it wise to spring a surprise visit on him like this?" Bertie asked as the car came to a stop in front of a manor whose exterior looked very much like a gingerbread house.

"I'm not giving him the chance to refuse to see me after baring his soul like he did. Are you sure you won't come in?"

"No, I think the two of you need some time alone to sort this out. Marigold and I will drive into Ripon for some ice cream and when we return, if you're feeling up to it you can introduce us."

"I love you, so very much" Edith leaned in, gently kissing her husband.

She waved as the car pulled away, taking a deep breath before approaching the front entrance and ringing the buzzer. She was not the least surprised to see it was Stewart, long time valet to the baronet, who answered the front door.

"Lady Edith...I beg your pardon... your ladyship" he stuttered, clearly unsettled at seeing the strawberry blonde.

Edith held up a hand, "It's quite alright Stewart. You needn't worry with formalities. I simply wish to speak with Sir Anthony. There's no need to announce me, I can see myself to the library."

Giving the valet a look that brooked no argument, the Marchioness turned, marching, for all appearances, a great deal more confident than she felt towards the library. The door was slightly open and Edith peeked inside to find her former fiancee` sitting in chair staring vacantly up at the ceiling, his face pale and drawn. Taking a moment to study his features, she could see there were more lines around his eyes and his wavy blond locks were a bit longer with more grey but what shocked her most was how thin he'd become. His once broad frame was now lean and haggard and he appeared to be exhausted. Still, sitting there with three shirt buttons undone and his tie hanging loosely at his neck, the older gentleman was, at least in her eyes, a handsome fellow. Watching him without his knowledge suddenly made Edith uncomfortable, and so, grasping the handle, she bravely swung the door open and stepped inside, making her presence known.

"I suppose that was another salesman at the door attempting to drum up some business" the baronet sighed before finally glancing up. Recognizing the figure in the doorway, Anthony panicked, his blue eyes widenening has he scrambled to his feet. The tall blond, who over the years had become quite adept at dressing himself with one hand, was now in such a state of shock that his fingers refused to accomodate him in his efforts to make himself presentable.

"Forgive my appearance, Lady Edith, I was not expecting visitors" he breathed, "I mean... Lady... Lady Hexham" he stuttered, aghast that he'd failed to address her properly. "What... what are... why are you... here?"

"Surely, you didn't think after receiving such a heartfelt letter, that I would not come." the young woman replied. Then, stepping to stand directly in front of him, she boldly reached out to still his hand as he continued nervously fumbling with his tie and collar, "Let's leave these undone."

"But, it isn't proper..."

"There's nothing proper about any of this, I suppose, but you will do as I say" she commanded. "Just this once" she continued softly, "please."

The baronet gave a slight nod as his hand fell to his side. The couple gazed awkwardly at each other until Anthony"s brow furrowed, "surely, you haven't come alone" he asked, glancing hesitantly towards the hall.

"No" Edith answered, "my husband came with me. He's taken our daughter into Ripon and when they return, I'll introduce you to them. But first, you and I have a few things to settle."

 _ **I won't make any promises, but I'm hoping to post another chapter by Christmas. Thanks for for all your reviews and comments on the pevious chapters. I really do appreciate them.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for continuing to read!** **I'm positively thrilled with all the Andith Christmas stories that are being posted! Downton belongs to JF and you'll recognize the material from canon.**

As neither of them was quite sure where to begin, an uncomfortable atmosphere settled over the room. Anthony, desperate to break the silence, spoke first, "Lady Edith, I can never say how truly sorry I am..."

"Stop," Edith held up her hand, effectively silencing the older gentleman, "I've read your letter, Anthony and I forgive you, completely, for everything. You have precious little time left and you will not waste it apologizing for the past."

"Then why are you here?" the baronet was obviously puzzled. "You could have easily just written to say you'd forgiven me."

"Yes that's true," the redhead acknowledged, "but, I owed you an apology as well. First, and foremost, we were friends Anthony. Yet, it was only after receiving your letter, that I was willing to admit how much I had missed that friendship. Have I moved on? Yes, just as you intended, but I never stopped caring for you, never stopped thinking of you. Unfortunately, I was too busy feeling sorry for myself, to consider how your actions might have affected you. You knew that after jilting me at the altar, you'd be shunned by society, condemned to a lifetime of loneliness and yet, you were willing to endure such a fate on my behalf. And, to make matters worse, you had to abandon Locksley, the place most dear to your heart. Ten long years of suffering you've endured because of a well meaning but ill advised decision. Well, not any longer, I've made some decisions of my own. We've both made mistakes, Anthony, but we are going to forgive each other, put those mistakes behind us, and face the future together, whatever it may bring. You will not be alone, I won't allow it. Understood?"

Speechless, the baronet, gaped at the strawberry blonde before him, marveling at her determination. Even when they were courting before the war, at least with him, Edith had been a bit forthright, and, after the war, well, he'd even go as far as to say she could be a bit demanding. The confident young woman standing before him now though, was truly a force to be reckoned with and he would have willingly followed her into battle had she asked him.

"Understood," he replied, trying and failing to stop the rush of pride he felt that at the strength and poise this fierce young woman possessed. The older gentleman fought back a chuckle, you certainly wouldn't be considered a wallflower now, my sweet, not that you ever were in my eyes.

"Good. Friends?"

"Friends," Anthony nodded, extending his left hand which Edith promptly brushed aside before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. The older gentleman froze for just a moment and then, releasing a shuddering breath, he wrapped his good arm around her shoulder and resting his chin on her forehead, he whispered, "I've missed you too, sweet one, so very very much."

Anthony rang for tea and the couple settled more easily than either had expected into conversation. There was, of course, some awkwardness but with so much catching up to do those moments were few and far between. Shortly afterwards, Bertie and Marigold were announced.

Anthony stood, bowing, "Your Lordship," he began.

"Please," the Marquis interrupted, "I'd much prefer if you'd call me Bertie."

"As you wish. And, who might this lovely young lady be?" the tall blond turned his attention to the little girl Bertie held in his arms.

"Sir Anthony, I'd like you to meet our daughter, Marigold." Edith announced with pride. "Marigold, sweetie, I'd like you to meet..." the Marchioness faltered, unsure how to proceed with introducing the man who meant a great deal to her. Simply referring to him as Sir Anthony seemed rather cold and impersonal.

Sensing his wife's unease, Bertie came to her rescue, "Marigold, say hello to your Uncle Anthony."

The baronet bit his trembling lower lip to stifle the emotion that threatened to undo his normal reserve. Edith gasped, and fighting back tears, gratefully mouthed a silent thank you towards the very dear man she was fortunate to call her husband.

"Miss Marigold, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you," Anthony said, taking the little girl's hand in his and formally placing a kiss to her fingers.

"Unca Anthony?" the five year old looked at her papa curiously, "like Unca Tom?"

"Yes," her papa nodded encouragingly.

"Oh, but I always give Unca Tom a proper hug and kiss," she said, reaching out and surprising the older gentleman as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and placed a kiss to his cheek.

Startled by the look of awe and wonderment that flashed across Anthony's face, Edith's hand flew to her mouth. She'd had the privilege of seeing that mystical look once, many years ago, after a dinner at Downton. As the guests were leaving, she'd seen the baronet to his car, insisting he'd saved the day by calling out Larry Grey for spiking Tom's drink. Eventually, when Lord Grantham had insisted she let Sir Anthony go, the young woman had summoned every ounce of her courage and catching the baronet off guard, swiftly planted a swift kiss to his cheek. The strawberry blonde smiled fondly, remembering she'd been rewarded with a look of pleased astonishment and that adorable crooked grin she so adored.

As the four mingled, Edith was also pleased to find that, just has she'd imagined, because neither man was the type to harbor feelings of animosity, Bertie and Anthony got along quite well. So well, that while Edith took Marigold on a tour of the manor, the two gentleman went for a walk around the estate, discussing the latest advancements in agriculture and technology. Reaching the orchards behind the house, the two men simply stared across the fields in silence before turning and heading back towards the house.

"Thank you for being so understanding about Edith wanting to visit," Anthony declared gratefully as they neared Locksley. "Most men would not have been so... so agreeable."

"I'm not sure you realize how very important you were, are, to her. It was you, who first made Edith feel valued. You helped her to find her voice and, in spite of the hurt she suffered at your hand, I know you loved her." Bertie was quiet for a moment before admitting "I'm not sure I would have been able to set her free had I found myself in your situation."

"Oh, I didn't want to and my selfishness nearly won out," the baronet confessed. "Had there never been a war, I assure you, I would not have let her go ."

The Marquis motioned towards Anthony's bad arm, "because of your injury?"

"No," Anthony replied softly, "You see before the war, being the daughter of an earl, Edith's options were pretty much limited to either being a wife or a spinster. I would not have felt as though I were holding her back. But after the war,...well, it's all turned out for the best and I wish the three of you much happiness," he murmured as they stepped inside.

"There you are," Edith smiled as she and Marigold met them in the hall, " I'm sorry Anthony but we really must be heading to Downton now."

"Yes, of course." The tall blond paused, "Christmas is in a few weeks," he began hesitantly, "will you be visiting your family over the holidays?"

"Actually," Edith glanced towards her husband, "Bertie and I wondered if we might spend Christmas at Locksley. If it's not too much trouble of course."

For the first time in many years, a genuine smile crossed Anthony Strallan's face.

"It won't be any trouble," he grinned, reaching down to ruffle Marigold's hair, "it won't be any trouble at all."

 **Dear readers, I w** **ould love to hear your comments on whether or not you found this chapter realistic.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy New Year everyone! I know the past year was a bit rough for many of us and I sincerely hope the coming year will be much better for all of us!**

Much to the shock and dismay of the Crawley's, Edith and her family arrived at Locksley four days before Christmas to begin preparations for the holiday. Anthony had been more than happy to leave the responsibility of making any and all decisions concerning meals, decorations and such in Edith's capable hands and the young woman immediately set about insuring the baronet's last Christmas would indeed be a joyous one. A few members of the staff from Brancaster had made the trip as well and those maids and footmen made short work of airing out rooms which hadn't been used in years. The next few days passed quickly in a flurry of activity and soon, garland and boughs of holly hung through out the manor and two tall pine trees, strung with lights and ornaments, took up residence in the hall and library. Wreaths adorned each entrance, candles shone from the windows, and the sounds of carols filled the air as they spun around the gramophone Stewart had found tucked away in the attic while digging out dust covered boxes of ornaments. And, now, on Christmas eve, as Edith, Bertie, and Anthony toured the house, taking in it's splendor, the strawberry blonde anxiously watched to gauge the baronet's reaction to her efforts. She needn't have worried.

"It's beautiful, Edith" he said as they settled in the library after luncheon, "you and your staff have done a magnificent job. You know, I can't remember the last time I actually looked forward to the holidays. Thank you. Both of you." he said, nodding towards Bertie.

Having situated herself as near to the tree as possible, Marigold had been happily playing with a small doll house that had belonged to Anthony's sister as a child and now the young girl beckoned her mother to join her on the floor. The men sat nearby taking in the scene as Edith laughed at something her daughter had said.

"This is the kind of Christmas I've always imagined at Locksley" Anthony murmured softly, "a house filled with laughter, children, love..." As the older gentleman's voice trailed off, he cast a sidelong glance towards Edith. The redhead, her attention focused on Marigold at that particular moment, failed to notice, but Bertie saw the brief glimpse in his wife's direction and the baronet's look of sadness and longing made his own heart break a little and reminded the Marquis of just how fortunate he was.

"The two of you seemed to have your heads together quite often while I was busy preparing for the holiday" Edith accused, turning back to the men. "I hope you weren't planning anything too devious."

"Actually, Anthony has an excellent idea with which he's asked me to help" Bertie explained.

"Oh really" the strawberry blonde arched her eyebrow at the baronet, "how intriguing."

"Yes...well... I had thought... but then you... I wasn't quite sure" the older gentleman nervously tugged at his collar, "Without an heir, I was unsure what to do about the estate upon my passing. My sister and her husband have built their life in London and, quite frankly, haven't any interest in overseeing the management of a country manor. In fact, it's been years since they've came to visit."

"So, Anthony's asked me to manage the sale of the estate" Bertie smiled, "and use the proceeds to set up an educational fund for orphans and other underprivileged children who might not otherwise have the opportunity to attend university. Young girls in particular."

"Oh, Anthony" the young woman beamed, "that's a wonderful idea!"

Blushing at the praise, the baronet dipped his head, "Well... umm... thank you... but, your husband has been a tremendous help. He's actually responsible for getting the process underway. I wouldn't have known where to start, I'm afraid."

"I suppose" Edith sighed wearily, "you wouldn't be Anthony Strallan if you didn't insist on playing down how remarkably intelligent and capable you are."

"Old habits" the baronet shrugged sheepishly.

"I, for one, think it's about time you..."

"Well, Marigold, my dear" the Marquis stood suddenly, deciding the other adults might need a bit of time alone to resolve a few remaining issues, "shall we head into Ripon and pick up those parcels we ordered?" he asked cheerfully.

"Parcels?" Edith looked curiously from her husband to her daughter. "What parcels?"

"Sorry Mama, but it's a secret. Right, Papa?" the little girl grinned.

"Yes it is" her father winked, "Now, let's go bundle up young lady and we'll be off. We should be back in an hour or so." he called over his shoulder, shuffling his daughter towards the hall.

"It wasn't my intention to cause a scene" Edith began.

Anthony gave a wave of his hand, "perhaps let's just read for a bit."

Eventually, after having selected a book from amongst the shelves, the couple settled into chairs near the warmth of the fire. Unfortunately, as neither was able to focus, both sat quietly, simply staring at the words on the pages before them.

Edith looked up shortly to find the baronet gazing at her wistfully "what's troubling you?"

"It's nothing, really."

Standing, the older gentleman began pacing has he ran a hand through his blond waves.

"Anthony, talk to me!"

"Edith, do you suppose... might... might I... ask of you just one gift this Christmas?"

"Of course, Anthony, anything."

"I shall not walk this earth much longer, my sweet, I feel it in my bones. And I have this overwhelming fear that once you return home for the new year, I'll not see you again and more than anything, before I die, I'd like to know how... how it would be... to..." the baronet hesitated.

"To what, Anthony? Tell me!"

"To... to kiss you. I... I wondered if perhaps, so to speak, I might have one kiss to take with me. I... I know it's wrong" his voice broke, "but God help me, the fact that I never kissed you has haunted me for so very long. Of course, should you refuse I'd understand..."

Edith pressed a finger to his lips.

"Kiss me" she urged, "please" her voice trembed slightly as the strawberry blonde remembered that once there was a time she'd often dreamed of being kissed by Anthony Strallan.

Stepping closer, the baronet, with his left hand, gently tilted her chin and leaning in, briefly brushed his lips against her's before pulling away.

Edith caught his elbow, "Kiss me again, Anthony. Properly this time."

Anthony froze, "I... I don't... know what you mean" he insisted, although the look in his eyes said otherwise.

"Kiss me the way you've imagined you would kiss me as my lover."

"Edith" he drawled in a low husky tone the young woman had never before heard, "that wouldn't be wise."

"Please" her brown eyes filled with tears, "if you ever desired me, please, show me. One kiss is not to much to ask, is it? I love Bertie with all my heart and I'm fortunate to have found such a good man who loves and accepts both me and my daughter but there will always be a little piece of my heart that belongs only to you, Anthony. A little corner tucked away that will only ever be yours."

Finding he could not resist her, the older gentleman wrapped his good arm around the strawberry blonde pulling her body flush against him. Holding nothing back, he crushed his lips to hers, kissing her fiercely and with such passion that it took Edith's breath away. After allowing himself a moment to revel in the glorious taste of her, Anthony managed to collect himself and pull away, "Edith, I apolog..."

"No" she interrupted, "don't you dare apologize. After you left, I spent months heartbroken, having convinced myself you'd neither truly cared for nor found me desirable, thinking ours would just have been a marriage of convenience. Thank you for proving me wrong. You have no idea how badly I needed to know that wasn't true. If you had kissed me like that before the war then perhaps..."

"Edith, please! We mustn't go there. It won't do either of us any good, now." Taking out his pocket watch, the baronet glanced at the time, "Bertie and Marigold should be back shortly. Perhaps, it would be best, for everyone concerned, if we took a stroll outside while waiting for them to return."

Having taken a turn around the gardens, they were approaching the front lawn just as Marigold and Bertie pulled up.

Joining them, the Marquis could see that Edith had been crying and Anthony seemed a bit shaken, "everything alright?" he inquired casually.

"Yes" his wife and the baronet nodded in unison.

"Just a few lingering questions that needed to be answered" Edith explained, taking her husband's arm. "Everything's fine now. We've made our peace with the past."

 _As always, any reviews, comments, or suggestions are appreciated._


	6. Chapter 6

**Hope everyone's New Year is off to a great start! Thanks for all your kind words and encouragement in the past year. Long live Andith.**

Entering the foyer, Stewart took their overcoats, and once again the group gathered near the warmth of the fire in Locksley's library.

"Where are the parcels you went to collect?" Edith looked curiously towards her husband who, except for the one small package he was placing under the tree, had returned empty handed.

"Only the one was ready" he replied, sharing a mysterious look with Marigold. "The others should be delivered shortly." he laughed, watching his daughter, full of joyous anticipation, hopping about in her efforts to keep a secret.

The Marquis checked his watch, "in fact, the first should be..."

At that moment, Stewart stepped into the room, "Dinner should be served within the hour, Sir" he informed his master.

"Thank you" Anthony acknowledged his valet with a smile. "Was there something else" he inquired, noticing his man, rather than leaving immediately upon making the announcement, stood gazing at him with an expression that the older gentleman could only describe as fondness.

Before Stewart could answer, the telephone in the hall rang, "I believe that will be for you, Sir." he grinned, turning to take his leave.

"Stewart, wait" Anthony called after him, "aren't you going to answer the telephone?" Puzzled, the baronet shook his head, "I've no idea what's gotten into that man" he grumbled, sounding just a wee bit frustrated as the phone continued ringing. "No one except my doctors or tenants have called the house in years and even they wouldn't be calling on Christmas eve. Excuse me, I'll just be a moment."

Jumping up and down and tugging at her father's arm, Marigold squealed, "This is the first suhpise, isn't it Papa!"

"I believe it is my dear girl."

Edith eyed the pair suspiciously, "Have the two of you been plotting?"

Reaching down and swinging his daughter up in his arms, Bertie buried his face into Marigold's strawberry locks in an attempt to hide his grin, "I haven't the slightest idea what Mummy's talking about, do you love?"

"No" Marigold shook her head vigorously before bursting into a delightful fit of giggles.

"So you do know..." Edith began just as Anthony, wearing a neutral expression, rejoined them.

"That was my sister, Eleanor, who somehow" the baronet said quietly, narrowing his eyes at his three guests, "found out I was here."

There was a moment of awkward silence and Marigold wriggling free from her father's grasp, approached the tall blond timidly.

"Pease don't be upset Unca Anthony. We just wanted to surpise you. To make you happy."

"Oh sweet one" Anthony gushed, kneeling down to take her hand, "I am happy" his face broke into a huge grin, "extremely happy! She and her husband have prior engagements for the holidays but after the new year, they're coming to visit for a week!"

Edith whirled around to face her husband, "the two of you planned this?"

"Well, we had a little help" Bertie admitted sheepishly, "from Stewart."

"Ahhhh" Anthony nodded thoughtfully, "that would explain why he's been acting so strangely. I was beginning to think he'd been indulging in... a bit of Christmas cheer early."

"Marigold and I have a gift for you" the Marquis picked up the package he'd placed under the tree earlier, "we'd like for you to open it before anyone else arrives."

"You needn't have gotten me anything" Anthony murmured, "it's already been the best Christmas I've spent at Locksley in years. One of the best ever."

The baronet took the package turning it lovingly in his hands before beginning to remove the silver foil wrapping and red bow. Glancing at Marigold, he couldn't help but chuckle at the young lady's impatience.

"Perhaps, I should just rip the wrapping off. What do you think Marigold?" he teased.

"Quickly!" she ordered, adding a somewhat less enthusiastic 'please' at her mother's disapproving look.

Tearing off the bow and paper, the older gentleman's breath caught has he took in the framed portrait of Edith and Marigold. Pursing his lips together, he made a desperate effort to stop the tears that were forming, but, for once, Anthony Strallan's proper English reserve melted entirely away has hot salty droplets of grief and joy, simultaneously streamed down his cheeks.

"As you well know, we have to return to Brancaster next week" Bertie spoke softly "and, unfortunately, at the moment, we have no idea how soon we'll be able to visit again, so, Marigold thought a photograph would be nice. That it might help keep you from being... so lonely until our return."

Unable to speak, the weeping baronet, knelt, clasping Marigold tightly to him before rising and grasping Bertie's hand in a vise-like grip, as though trying, through the sheer strength of his actions, to convey his appreciation for such a thoughtful gift.

As Anthony crossed the room to place the framed photo on the mantle above the fireplace, Edith wrapped her arms around her husband. "I have I told you lately how very much I love you?"

"You can always tell me again, my darling one. I'll never tire of hearing it."

Kissing his cheek, Edith suddenly paused, reflecting on Bertie's earlier statement. "Wait just a minute" she said, mulling over the words her husband had spoken while handing the baronet his package, "you told Anthony you wanted him to open his gift before anyone else got here. Do you have something else up your sleeve?"

At that particular moment the doorbell rang and Marigold, bouncing up and down in her excitement, shouted, "They're here Papa! They're here!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Bless you wonderful folks for continuing to read and comment! The Andith community is such lovely bunch!**

Answering the door, Anthony gasped at the sight of his old friends, Hugh and Claudia Jarvis, huddled together on his step.

"Hello Anthony" a smiling Lady Jarvis warmly embraced the baronet, "I've been waiting ten years to do that."

"It's been far too long old boy" Hugh clasped his friend's left hand, shaking it heartily. "I wish we could stay, but we're on our way to visit Claudia's sister. Happy Christmas!"

"Yes, Happy Christmas" his wife added, "And, once the holidays are over, I'll be in touch. We simply must make arrangements for you to dine with us."

"But... but..."

"I won't take no for an answer" Claudia interrupted, "it can be just the three of us but you will come to dinner. Now, as much as we'd like to stay and chat, we really must be getting on."

Reaching the car, Hugh shook the tall blond's hand once more, "Anthony, my friend, I've truly missed you."

"We both have" Claudia added softly, "very much." She glanced towards the others, "Merry Christmas everyone."

"Happy Christmas" the group echoed.

As the four stood waving farewell, another car pulled up and Marigold, overcome with excitement, began dancing with happiness.

As the driver hopped from behind the wheel to hold the door open for his passengers, the older gentleman smiled, who on earth could this be, he wondered. Mere moments later, the baronet's blood froze as Edith's sister, Mary stepped out.

Panicking, the strawberry blonde turned to her husband, "what is **_she_** doing here?"

"I was making arrangements with Tom to have dinner with us tonight and well,... you know how persistent Mary can be... and I ..."

"For goodness sake Edith" Mary interrupted, "it's Christmas eve. I can manage to behave for a few hours" she hissed before turning to the tall blond and smiling, "Happy Christmas, Sir Anthony." Gesturing towards the other's, "You remember Tom, of course, this is his daughter Sybbie and this young man is my son, George. Please accept my apologies for barging in but I do have my reasons for wanting to be here tonight."

Although taken completely by surprise by this sudden turn of events, Anthony, ever the gentleman, gave a slight bow, "welcome to Locksley."

After shaking Tom's hand, the baronet turned to the children, "Miss Sybbie, Master George, it's a pleasure to meet you both."

The two children nodded, an awkward silence settling upon the scene until Sybbie Branson boldly stepped forward, intently gazing up at the older gentleman for a few seconds before turning to her youngest cousin and declaring, "You're right. He **_is_** a giant!" she exclaimed, causing everyone to laugh and just like that, the ice was broken.

Clearing his throat, Tom held up two small bags, "I'm afraid" he said sheepishly, "that Sybbie and George, upon finding Marigold would be spending Christmas eve with her Uncle Anthony, were hoping they might spend the night as well, their reasoning being that any uncle of Marigold's is an uncle of theirs. Of course, Mary and I told them, they'd need to ask your permission."

A crooked grin crossed the baronet's face, "I should be delighted" he beamed.

Much to everyone's surprise, dinner turned out to be a pleasant affair and now, with the furniture having been pushed aside, Anthony and Mary sat quietly in the drawing room watching as George paired with Edith, Sybbie with Tom, and Marigold with Bertie, danced merrily around the floor.

"Sir Anthony, the reason I insisted on coming tonight was...", the normally self assured and confident young woman's voice trailed off and she began nervously fidgeting with her dress, unsure how to properly broach the matter that had been pricking her conscience since learning Anthony was dying. "Well , I... I'd like to aplogize for what happened at the garden party all those years ago. I was being petty, getting back at Edith for what I perceived was a tremendous wrong. Unfortunately, you were caught in the crossfire of our sibling squabbles, a unsuspecting pawn has I sought revenge. My actions were, are inexcusable and although, I don't expect you to forgive me, for what it's worth, I am sorry for hurting you as well as Edith."

Marveling at the sincerity of the young woman he'd once considered as cold and calculating as anyone with whom he'd come contact, Anthony chose his words with great care, "Lady Mary, considering what the future holds, I think it best to put the past behind us and move forward. I certainly harbor no ill feelings towards you. How could I? I hurt Edith as well, even more so I'm afraid." The older gentleman turned towards the eldest sister, " You mustn't worry, it seems to have worked out for the best for every one concerned." He sighed heavily, "had Edith and I married, she'd soon be a widow and any children we may have been fortunate to have had, fatherless."

"Yes" Mary murmured sadly, "that's a fate I wouldn't wish on anyone."

A look of horror flashed across the baronet's face, "Oh dear... I... I didn't think. It was not my... my intention" he stammered, "to drudge up such painful memories."

"I know it wasn't" the young woman touched his forearm, "you're far too much a gentleman to do anything so callous."

The two focused once again on the dancers, "Lady Mary..." the older man paused.

"It's Christmas eve, I believe we can dispense with the formalities, at least for tonight Sir Ant...," Mary smiled, "I mean Anthony. You were saying?"

"It's just occurred to me, I have a gift for Marigold but nothing for Miss Sybbie or Master George."

"That's quite alright. They won't be expecting anything."

"But tomorrow's Christmas morn" he frowned, "they must have something under the tree when they awake."

"I could have something sent over from the abbey."

Standing, Anthony glanced around the room to ensure their departure would go unnoticed, "I don't suppose" he whispered, his bright blues eyes fairly dancing with mischief "you'd care to join me on a little excursion?"

Twenty minutes later, after having successfully slipped away from the others, Anthony and Mary, feeling quite pleased with themselves, stood admiring the treasures they'd discovered while rummaging through the attics. With Mary's approval, the baronet had chosen a set of wooden soldiers he'd played with as a child for George as well as a toy drum. For Miss Sybbie, the pair decided on a miniature tea set and Kaleidoscope that had belonged to his older sister. As they made to leave, Anthony glimpsed a wooden sled from his youth leaning against the far wall. Recalling the countless hour of joy it had given him, the tall blond decided the three youngsters downstairs might also enjoy riding over the snow covered Yorkshire hills as much as he once had. Making a mental note to have Stewart bring it down as well when the valet came to collect the other gifts, the baronet giving a final bittersweet glance around the room, closed the door upon a treasure chest of memories from his past.

 **Okay, I'm sorry if this story seems to have become a bit far fetched but if Sir Anthony has to die, then damned if I won't make his last days has pleasant as possible. Or perhaps I'm just overcompensating for RL.**


	8. Chapter 8

Anthony, having rose early on Christmas morn, was up before everyone else with the exception of Stewart. He was presently sitting in the library admiring the tree as he reflected on the favorable turn his life had taken in the past few weeks and the joy he'd experienced at having the good fortune of being reunited with Edith. And, although he knew he ought to be counting his blessings, the baronet could not stop the empty ache that filled his soul. As much as he had enjoyed entertaining visitors, even Lady Mary, the older gentleman's lips twitched slightly at that unlikely thought before settling once more in a frown, no amount of happiness was able to still the nagging sense of what might have been that now pervaded each room of the house. Stop it, he inwardly chastised himself. Whereas Anthony found it easy to put on appearance of being content in the presence of Edith and to remind himself, and her, that what if's and regrets would serve no good purpose, whenever the tall blond found himself alone with his thoughts, the feelings of regret which ate endlessly away at him during the day and dogged his restless slumber at night were overwhelming. And, though he'd always been slightly disappointed at not having any heirs with whom to leave Locksley, now, with the presence of the woman who held his heart and the laughter of young children sounding through the halls of his ancestral home, his level of disappointment rose astronomically.

"Mind if I join you?" Bertie asked, poking his head into the room.

"Please do, I could certainly use the company."

Taking a seat across from Anthony, the Marquis watched as his host brushed a hand over his weary eyes, "Is everything ok?"

"Just a foolish old man feeling sorry for himself."

"It might, perhaps, do you good to talk about it" the younger man suggested, "I might even be of some help."

"Over the past few weeks" Anthony sighed, "this old house, having been filled with the warmth and happiness of the holiday season, has, for the first time in years, truly felt like a home. And, now, because there's no one to inherit, Locksley will be sold to outsiders. Folks who can't possibly feel the same sense of duty and obligation towards the estate that a member of the family would. For hundreds of years, generations of Strallan's have called this estate their home, and I can't help but feel ashamed and dismayed" the baronet confessed, "that now, my family's legacy will be turned over to strangers. I've failed everyone and everything that matters to me, first Edith, then Locksley, and lastly, my family."

"You'll be funding the education of countless young people, I shouldn't consider that a failure. Quite an achievement, if ask me."

"I know it's a worthy cause, still..." Anthony shrugged helplessly at his guest.

Bertie studied the baronet intently causing the older gentleman to turn away in embarrassment. Suddenly, the Marquis stood, walking to the window to stare silently out over the fields, hands clasped tightly behind his back while contemplating whether or not to reveal the decision he'd recently made concerning the future of Locksley . After spending a few moments mulling over the details and considering how Anthony might respond the young man crossed the room, coming to stand directly in front of his host.

"Anthony, I have a confession to make" the young man finally admitted. "I know how much Locksley means to you and I know how very fond my wife is of it as well, the library in particular." He stepped to the nearest shelf, his index finger sliding absent-mindedly along the spines of volumes of poetry, philosophy, and the classics has he slowly rounded the room and came to stand in front of Anthony once more. "I've been thinking, other than your sister, Edith is the closest thing you have to family and so, after a great deal of consideration, I've decided to buy the estate" he announced. "The title will, of course, be in Edith's name."

"What? Is Edith aware of your plans?"

"To be honest," Bertie continued, "I wasn't planning on mentioning it to either of you. I intended to surprise my wife and you, well, I wasn't certain how you'd react to such news. But having seen how distressed you are about the situation as it currently stands, I thought perhaps you might be relieved to know Edith will acquire ownership of Locksley."

"How.. how can you be sure she'd even be remotely interested" Anthony asked, fighting back the hope that had begun to rise within him.

"You both have that same mournful look of despair and longing whenever anyone broaches the subject of Locksley being put up for auction. I believe that she'd offer to buy it herself and you'd simply give it to her if you both weren't so afraid that I might take offense."

"Are you sure you're willing to take on the added responsibility... I mean, you have Brancaster, a considerable estate, Edith manages The Sketch, forgive me but I don't see how..."

"If you recall, I was estate manager at Brancaster before my cousin passed away and I've been talking to Tom who's done quite well managing Downton. I'm convinced" he grinned, "that our experience, combined with Edith's love of Locksley, should be sufficient to take on your duties and if not, then Stewart will be there to guide us should things threaten to run off the rails."

"Stewart" Anthony was visibly relieved, "you intend to keep Stewart on?"

"I can't think of anyone else who'd be more equipped at managing the estate's day to day operations, can you? So, we're agreed, Edith will become Locksley's new owner?"

"Nothing would please me more" Anthony smiled. "If you wouldn't object, I'd like to make arrangements for the transfer to be completed before you leave rather than..." his voice trailed away.

Bertie immediately grasped the significance of the baronet's unfinished thought, "I'll contact my solicitor tomorrow and have him start the proceedings."

"Good" Anthony stood to shake the Marquis' hand. "Now, I have another matter I'd like to discuss before Edith comes down."

 **I can't make any promises, but I'm hoping to post the next update fairly soon. Thanks for continuing to read and I'd love to hear your comments.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Dear readers, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. You'll recognize the quote and material borrowed from canon.**

Half an hour later, the men heard the clamoring of the Crawley grandchildren making their way towards the library.

"Happy Christmas!" the three cried in unison, running into the room.

"Children, I know it's Christmas but you must behave" Edith lightly scolded as she followed along behind them.

"Happy Christmas, darling" she greeted her husband with a kiss to his cheek before turning to the baronet. "I'm sorry Anthony, they're just so excited about the snow."

"Please, allow them to enjoy themselves. I must admit, I was also happily surprised to see the snow when I looked out this morning." the older gentleman gave a crooked grin as he rang for Stewart. "I know you're having brunch with your family but I thought some tea, toast, and scones would tide you over and there's hot chocolate for the children."

"Excellent, we'll need to leave in an hour or so, but we'll be back in time..."

The strawberry blonde was interrupted by the shouts of three highly excited children who'd just discovered the sled under the tree.

"Mama, Papa, look" Marigold clapped her hands.

"Uncle Anthony, are those for us?" Sybbie danced about pointing at the gifts under the tree as young George hopped from one foot to the other in anticipation.

"How on earth did those get there?" Anthony feigned surprise, winking in the direction of the other adults. "They're certainly not for me. I'm much to old to go sledding" he laughed, delightedly watching all three dive in after the brightly colored packages.

"These are for me" George glanced curiously at Anthony, a toy soldier in each hand, "to play with?"

"Of course" the older gentleman puzzled, "why wouldn't you play with them?"

"Well, Donk has some just like these and I'm not allowed to even touch them."

"Donk?" Anthony was obviously baffled.

"While most men are referred to as either grandfather or grandpapa by their grandchildren" Edith explained, "Papa is affectionately called Donk."

"Donk" Anthony repeated as he threw his head back and laughed, "I'd love to see the look on Robert's face if I were to address him as Lord Donk."

"He'd be none too pleased I assure you" Bertie chuckled, "He's just now resigning himself to the children referring to him in such a manner."

Elated with their gifts, the youngsters, having thanked Anthony, were playing contentedly and sipping cocoa.

The baronet turned to Bertie, "perhaps now would be a good time? Stewart could keep an eye on them for a bit."

"A good time to what" Edith glanced between the two gentlemen.

"Why don't the two of you go ahead" the Marquis suggested, "I'll look after these three" he nodded towards the cousins.

"Go where?" the strawberry blonde stamped her foot in frustration, "would the two of you please stop talking as though I'm not in the room!"

"If you'd be so good as to come with me" Anthony smirked, "oh, and you'll need a coat."

Ten minutes later, the couple, trekking through the snow towards the out buildings, came to a stop in front of one which Edith assumed was used to house some type of farming machinery. Reaching into his pocket, Anthony handed Edith a key and once the young woman had snapped the padlock open, the two slid back the barn style doors.

"So" Edith grinned up at the tall blond mischievously, "you've finally decided to show me one of the new harvesters."

The older gentleman's brow furrowed in confusion for just a moment before he burst out laughing, "I remember now, it was the dinner of the salty pudding. You said, and I quote, 'I should love to see one of the new harvesters, if you would ever let me'. No my dear, if you had your hopes set on seeing a harvester, I'm afraid you're in for a big disappointment, although, I believe this shall more than make up for it."

Stepping inside, the baronet flipped the light switch illuminating the darkened room, "Merry Christmas, Edith!"

"The Rolls" Edith gasped in disbelief, "our Rolls!"

Anthony could not stop the warmth that spread through him at having Edith allude to the automobile as _our Rolls._

"I can't believe you've kept it all this time" the young woman marveled, walking to the passenger side and running her hand fondly along the the vehicle's exterior before opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat.

Giving the slightest of shrugs, the baronet tilted his head to one side, "Couldn't bring myself to part with it, you see. Three, four times a year, needing to tend to business matters, I'd sneak back to Locksley for a few days, more often than not, taking the very latest train to Yorkshire in order to avoid meeting anyone. And" his voice quivered as the tears which threatened to fall transformed his azure eyes to a sea of mournful blue, "late at night or in the hours just before dawn, I'd have Stewart drive down the roads that I'd often traveled with you. Our drives were... are some of my very best memories and it was always pleasant to relive them." Slipping behind the wheel, Anthony leaned back into the soft leather, "Sometimes... sometimes I'd come out, sit behind the wheel, close my eyes, and remember how wonderful it felt to have you by my side, riding along, not a care in the world. I'd picture you, your glorious smile, the bright flush of your cheeks, the force of the wind blowing curls astray from underneath your scarf. On other occasions, I'd relive the night we went to the concert in York." Reaching down to take the strawberry blonde's hand, he brought it up, brushing her knuckles with the softest of kisses before clutching it to his chest, "Thank you Edith. Thank you for giving me so many wonderful memories."

"Oh Anthony, I cherish those memories as well. They were my greatest source of comfort in the years we spent apart. And, our drives, I believe, I treasured most of all. In fact, I'd say the main reason I was so adamantly stubborn about learning to drive was because it allowed me to feel a connection to you while you were away. And, I thought, hoped, that perhaps one day, once the war was over and you'd returned... sometimes I... I might be the one to drive you. But, then you came back injured and it seemed so wrong to ask such a thing knowing that I was able to enjoy a pleasure that you had been denied. I'm so very happy though" she nodded, her eyes glistening with tears, "that you've kept it. To know that it has, in it's own way, kept us bound to one another through the years."

"Good" Anthony choked out as he took the keys from his pocket, "because I want you have it."

"Oh Anthony! Truly! I... I don't know what to say. I... I should speak to Bertie first."

"He and I have discussed it already. I know it may seem as though I'm, once again, making decisions which concern you without your input but Bertie's been extremely understanding given the circumstances and I didn't want to offend him or get your hopes up without knowing whether or not if he'd be comfortable with the situation. Please try to understand" he implored. "Please don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry, Anthony" the strawberry blonde stroked his arm, "I'm just wondering how I can ever repay you."

"If, before you return to Scotland, you were to take me on a drive" the tall blond teased, "then perhaps, I might consider us even."

The two sat quietly for a moment until Anthony swung his door open and stepped from the car.

"We best be getting back" he said, coming around to Edith's side.

"Yes" the young woman agreed, "we should be leaving for Downton soon. We'll be back tonight, though, and if Sybbie and George get their way, they'll be returning as well. Unless you'd like a break, in that case we could all spend the night at the Abbey and return tomorrow afternoon."

The baronet gave a nonchalant wave of hand, "I'll wait up for you."

Arm in arm, the couple set off towards the main house, absorbed by their private thoughts, with only the sound of snow crunching underfoot to fill the silence.

"That was very kind of you to give the children gifts" Edith murmured as they neared the front door. "If you were around them very much, I fear you'd spoil them rotten."

"I've always considered it a blessing to be able to give to children. They seem so appreciative of even the smallest gesture. I've often wondered how much greater a feeling it must invoke when one does for one's own flesh and blood." The baronet smiled sadly, "I like to believe that I would have been a good father. I certainly had enough love bottled away and no one to receive it. Well, there was you, and I definitely botched that, didn't I, sweet one?"

"Shush now" Edith softly scolded. "And, for what it's worth," she gave his arm a squeeze as they stood outside the front entrance stamping the snow from their feet, "I know, without a doubt, that you would have been the most wonderful father a child could ever ask for."

 ** _I simply had to include a chapter featuring the Rolls and the importance of the drives our lovely couple took. Wouldn't you agree? If you have time, I'd appreciate your leaving a comment. xx_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews for the last chapter. You all are the best! I borrowed one or two of Lady Edith's lines from the series.**

The days following Christmas were filled with activity and passed far too quickly for Anthony and his guests. Between playing soldiers, overseeing sledding adventures, being the guest of honor at tea parties, and reading stories at bedtime, the children kept their newly acquired uncle on his toes. And, each afternoon, Edith and Anthony, along with three rambunctious youngsters merrily piled into the Rolls, setting off over the roads of the snow covered Yorkshire countryside, bringing along on their little excursions a basket packed with freshly baked gingerbread biscuits and a thermos of cocoa. Despite having a full social schedule, the baronet and Bertie somehow managed to quietly complete the transfer of Locksley to Edith without her knowledge, as well as meeting secretly with Tom and Stewart to discuss the future of the estate.

Now, on New Year's eve, after having spent the day at Downton, Edith, Bertie, Marigold, and her two cousins had returned to ring in the New Year with Anthony. Sybbie and George had eagerly chosen to return to Locksley, where they would be permitted to celebrate with the grownups, over the prospect of being tucked away in their beds back at the Abbey. Unfortunately, after what had been a long and eventful day, all three were completely knackered, and now lay on the rug near the roaring fire, fast asleep.

"There's really no need to stay up Anthony, perhaps Bertie and I should just collect the children and call it a night" Edith suggested, noting that as the week had progressed, the older gentleman, though he would never admit to it, seemed to have grown a bit worn and weary.

"I'm fine really" the older gentleman replied, "I took a nap while you were out. Besides, once the clock strikes midnight, you, Bertie, and I shall have, in addition to the new year, an even bigger occasion to celebrate."

"Oh really, and what might that be" the young woman inquired.

"There's to be a changing of the guard, so to speak" the tall blond grinned crookedly.

"That sounds intriguing. Would either of you would care to elaborate?"

"Now, now, my dear" her husband chided, "we mustn't spoil the surprise. You haven't long to wait" he glanced towards the clock on the mantle, "less than half an hour."

"Fine!" Agitated, Edith, who'd never really been known for her patience, began pacing in front of the hearth.

Twenty minutes later, the clock chimed and Anthony raised his glass, "to Edith, the most marvelous woman I've ever known" he toasted.

"To Edith" Bertie added, "my beautiful, intelligent, wonderful wife."

Looking at each other, the men sang out in unison, "To Edith, the...

"For heaven's sake, enough already" the strawberry blonde interrupted, clearly not amused, "will someone please tell me what all the hoopla is about?"

"That's precisely what we're trying to do, my darling." Bertie chuckled.

Clinking their glasses together, the baronet and Marquis began again "To Edith" the young woman rolled her eyes in exasperation, "the new owner of Locksley!"

"What are you saying?" a dazed Edith exclaimed, glancing between the baronet and her husband. "I don't understand what you're saying!"

Setting his drink aside, Anthony pulled a white envelope from his inside suit pocket, handing it to the Marchioness.

"This is the title to Locksley" he informed her, "as of midnight, ownership has transferred to you and the estate is now in your possession."

"But... but the sale of the estate was to establish an... an educational fund. Has much as I might wish... It... it would be... selfish of me to accept" she stammered, scanning the document.

"Not to worry" her husband spoke up, "the educational fund has been established and the proceeds deposited into the account."

Seeing her confusion, Anthony explained, "your husband was gracious enough to purchase the estate in order that it might remain in the hands of someone who, if I may be so bold as to make such an assumption, loves it as much as I."

"I don't believe it" Edith gasped, throwing her arms around her husband. "I... I'm speechless!" Overcome with emotion, the young woman turned to the baronet, "It's true, I've loved Locksley ever since you first invited me to tea. I was always so happy here" she whispered, tears spilling softly onto her cheeks, "much more so than I had ever been at Downton."

"I hope it shall bring you many more years of happiness" the baronet murmured, his eyes glistening brightly, "you and your family" he added, nodding gratefully towards the Marquis.

"I have a little announcement of my own" Bertie seemed particularly pleased with his proclamation. "There's also a clause that stipulates should Marigold or any future descendants decide to sell the property, those proceeds are to be distributed to the Locksley Foundation educational fund as well. You should be proud, Sir Anthony. Thanks to you, less fortunate children shall be provided an education for many years to come."

"I've... I've... no idea...what... what to say" the older gentleman stammered. "Thank you. Thank you ever so much."

"You needn't thank me. I consider myself fortunate to be part of such a worthy cause."

A lingering silence fell over the room, and eventually the younger man stood, clasping his hands together, before speaking, "Seeing as our train will be leaving day after tomorrow, I thought I would give the two of you a bit of time to yourselves, to say a proper farewell. So if you'll excuse me, I'll see the children to bed. Goodnight, my dear" he said, coming to place a kiss to his wife's cheek. "Good night, Sir Anthony."

Once Bertie had gathered the children and left, Edith and Anthony sat quietly staring at each other. Clearly, the idea of being left unchaperoned, caught the couple off guard and left them feeling uncomfortable.

"Oh, for goodness sake" Edith rose, turning off several lights and dimming the others.

"What... what... whaaat are you doing" Anthony stuttered, his voice rising and cracking in alarm as he sprung up from the sofa. "This... this is... entirely improper" he panicked, glancing around the room which was now illuminated by only the soft glow of the fire and the low light of a few lamps.

Edith had to stifle a giggle, "Come now, Anthony, it's not as though, I intend to compromise your honor" she grinned, coming to stand beside him. "It's just occurred to me that in all the time we've known each other" she said, taking a seat on the sofa, "we've never actually celebrated the arrival of a new year together."

She patted the cushion beside her but when it appeared as though the baronet might actually bolt, the strawberry blonde looking directly in his eyes, tugged at his arm and firmly ordered him to sit.

"This isn't so terrible now, is it?" Edith laughed lightly, linking her arm through his. "Often, while we were courting, I imagined how we would spend the holidays. One of my favorite scenarios was sitting cuddled up in front of the fire. Could we do that? Would you mind?"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to be alone with..." the baronet responded hesitantly.

"Please Anthony, one last intimate memory involving just the two of us. We have so few."

"Alright" the tall blond conceded, "just for a moment though."

Anthony lifted his arm, and Edith snuggled into his side, wrapping her arms around his middle and inhaling the comforting scent of sandalwood soap and the faint smell of aftershave. Pulling the young woman close and breathing in the distinctive fragrance of her lilac perfume, the older gentleman relaxed, absentmindedly placing a kiss to the top of her strawberry waves. Savoring the warmth of their closeness, Edith began fiddling with his tie, working to undo the knot.

"Edith" the baronet muttered hoarsely, grasping her hand and stilling her motions, "you mustn't do that."

"I promise to behave" Edith sighed. "Just once though... I... I'd like to... to be close to you without your being so... properly attired. I'm not asking for much, I only wish to loosen your tie and undo a few buttons. You wouldn't deny me such a small request, would you?"

Yielding to the young woman's pleas, Anthony, once again, raised his arm, allowing the redhead to burrow into his side. Now, with Edith having undone his tie and collar, the two sat quietly staring into the flames.

"You know" Edith eventually broke the silence, "I used to imagine us with a house full of little ones having, as Mama refers to it, the most terrific fun in making them."

"I can't believe you ever had... impure thoughts... about me."

"Anthony, I've been having impure thoughts about you since 1914" the redhead teased.

Finding herself captivated by the intimate setting and mesmerized at being in such close proximity to the man who'd been the object of many a youthful fantasy, Edith began lightly tracing the scruff of his cheek, continuing along his jawline, completely losing herself to the feel of the baronet's warm skin beneath her fingertips.

"Perhaps, it's time I escorted you to your room" the older gentleman abruptly extracted himself from the young woman's embrace and stood, "before this situation gets any further out of hand."

Edith's face fell, "I've gone and ruined things, haven't I? Driven you away."

Tilting her face towards him, the tall blond sighed, "No, my sweet, it's not you, it's me."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I am, after all my darling girl, only human" Anthony confessed, "flesh and blood and, where you're concerned, especially subject to temptation."

"Oh." Edith numbly replied before her eyes widened as she suddenly realized what Anthony meant, "Oh!"

"And, I'd prefer not to be meeting my maker having recently broken one of the ten commandments" the baronet muttered, placing his hand lightly at the small of Edith's back and guiding her across the room.

Upon reaching the library door, the young woman suddenly turned, "Happy New Year, Anthony" she said, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Anthony's lips curled slightly upward to form a small smile whose faint bit of happiness was almost entirely overshadowed by regret, "Happy New Year, sweet one."

 _Well, my dear readers, one, perhaps, two chapters to go._


	11. Chapter 11

The day after New Years, Edith drove Anthony and the cousins to the station, while Tom followed with Bertie and Stewart, who would be driving the Rolls and Sir Anthony back to Locksley. Knowing the baronet's last days on earth were fast approaching, made the family's departure painful for all those present but for Edith, who knew this might very well be the last time she'd see Anthony alive, saying farewell was particularly difficult. Now, with goodbyes having been said, hugs given, and a multitude of tears shed, the forlorn little group stood on the platform awaiting the train's arrival. Catching Tom's eye, Bertie huddled the children together and the five of them stepped inside the station, allowing his wife and the baronet an opportunity to speak in private.

"I wish we didn't have to go" Edith mumbled dejectedly, clutching the tall blond's good hand and leading him past the waiting room and around the side of the building, away from public scrutiny.

"All good things must come to an end" the older gentleman attempted to smile.

"Yes, yes they do" the strawberry blonde sadly whispered. "And, especially where you and I are concerned, they always have."

Anthony immediately regretted his feeble attempt at humor, knowing full well Edith was referring to the promise of a garden party proposal that never occurred and their failed wedding.

"I was foolish, sweet one, and I'm sorry for the hurt I caused you" he said despairingly, "truly I am."

"And, I don't mean to make you feel wretched" the young woman looked away unable to deal with the pain etched on her former fiance's face, "but sometimes it's hard not to think of what might have been."

"I can certainly attest to that" the baronet muttered as the mournful whistle of an approaching locomotive sounded in the distance.

Slowly, Edith turned in Anthony's direction, their eyes meeting has all sense of time and place, along with the rest of the universe, melted away and only the two former would-be lovers remained. Their despair, longing, and regret, at that moment, on display for all the world to see. As smoldering brown eyes bore passionately into blue ones, the strawberry blonde took a hesitant step towards the older gentleman, an awkward attempt to communicate without words, her consuming need for physical contact with him. A longing to hold and comfort and to be held and comforted in return. Anthony, sensing the young woman's unspoken request mirrored the desires of his own heart, swung his good arm out to his side, an open invitation which the young woman eagerly accepted, rushing forward to be enveloped in the warmth of his embrace as she slid her arms inside his billowing overcoat and around his waist.

"Promise me that you'll take care of yourself, Anthony" the strawberry blonde pleaded, hugging him tightly. "I plan on returning in three weeks but, in the meantime, you can expect I'll be calling to check on you."

"I promise, sweet one. You needn't worry though, it's not as if you're leaving me to fend for myself. Lady Jarvis has already made arrangements for me to dine with them. My sister arrives next week for an extended visit. Tom will be dropping by frequently and young Sybbie and Master George have asked if they might come with him. Stewart, I daresay, will be keeping a close eye on me and I'm sure he won't hesitate to call if I misbehave" the baronet chuckled, his bright blue eyes containing just a hint of mischief inspite of his grief.

Has the train pulled into the depot, the engineer sounded a shrill warning, alerting passengers to it's arrival. Filing out of the waiting room along with the others who were preparing to board, Bertie made his way towards the couple as Tom and the children stood back.

After shaking Anthony's hand once again and thanking him for his hospitality, the Marquis turned to his wife "I'm afraid it's time, sweetheart."

"I know" the redhead nodded reluctantly, "I just need another minute."

"Of course. I'll go ahead and get Marigold settled."

The throng on the platform continued slowly dispersing until only the two of them remained and the conductor cried out a final "all aboard!"

"I have to go" Edith whimpered, pressing the baronet's hand to her cheek.

Pulling her to him once more, Anthony gripped the young woman tightly, clutching her slender frame to him as though trying to commit the feel of her body to memory.

"Be happy Edith" he murmured, leaning down to tenderly kiss away the tears spilling onto her cheek. "And, remember, my dearest darling, I love you. _**Always."**_

Standing on her tip toes to reach him, the redhead brushed her lips lightly near the tall blond's ear, whispering "Always, Anthony. _**Always."**_

Once he'd helped Edith up the steps and onto the train, the older gentleman, stepping back, watched as the engine built up steam and the cars began slowly chugging past. Catching one last glimpse of Marigold, Bertie, and Edith waving through their compartment window, Anthony tipped his hat. Watching as the locomotive gradually disappeared in the distance, the baronet was painfully aware that, this time, he was the one experiencing the pain and disappointment of having been left behind. That, now, due to unforeseen circumstances, he would suffer the same sorrow and anguish which the young woman had twice endured at his hand. It was, to put it mildly, an unsettling realization that left a bitter taste in his mouth and tortured his soul. His shoulders slumping in defeat, the baronet struck a violent blow to his chest, a futile attempt at staving off the tears forming in his eyes and the bitter loneliness rising within his heart.

 **My apologies for the delay in posting but it's taken me days to get to a place that I considered this chapter satisfactory. I know, I know, hard to believe considering it's brevity. Anyway, if you have time to comment, I'd certainly appreciate it. xx**


	12. Chapter 12

It was certainly appropriate weather for such an occasion, Edith thought, as she took in her surroundings that afternoon in early March. The day had dawned cold and gray, and now, as she quietly stood near the mound of freshly overturned earth, the young woman watched has the last few remaining leaves, which clung with desperate determination to their branches, lost their battle with the forces of nature, and began frantically swirling and spiraling down to cover the recently dug grave. A sudden gust of wind ushering in a mix of light sleet caused the young woman to glance upwards at the gloomy, overcast sky, the threat of a snowstorm looming on the horizon. Listening intently to the wails and moans of the fiercely howling wind, Edith couldn't help but think that Mother Nature, herself, seemed to be mourning the loss of Anthony Strallan.

Try as she might, the strawberry blonde found herself unable to focus on the words of the young vicar from the local parish who was performing the simple graveside service that Anthony had requested. Instead, her attentions were focused on the sad faces of the small group of mourners gathered near the orchards at Locksley and her thoughts completely occupied by the gentleman whose dying wish was that he might be buried on his former estate. Regrettably, Edith had only managed to visit the baronet once since the New Year, a long weekend in early February before receiving the dreaded news that the end was near. Brushing back tears, she smiled sadly, recalling snippets of that particular phone conversation.

"But, Anthony I want to be there!"

"Your place is with your family, sweet one. I've stolen enough of your time already and considering the circumstances, Bertie has been more than gracious."

"I want to be there!"

"You're a Marchioness, Edith, with duties and responsibilities. You can't cast such obligations aside on my account."

"I also have an obligation to my friend" she argued, "besides, you shouldn't be alone."

"I won't be alone. Stewart's here, as well as Eleanor, and Tom has been stopping by frequently."

"You don't understand. If I'm not there when... when... the time comes, I'll... I'll never forgive myself."

"Oh, Edith, I'm just" she heard him struggle to catch his breath, "I'm so very tired, sweet one."

"Don't you dare, Anthony, don't you dare give up! You hear me! I'm coming and don't you dare give up until I get there!"

Arriving at Locksley late the next evening, Edith found Anthony's sister, her husband, and Stewart keeping vigil at his bedside. Without any thought or concern for propriety, the young woman crossed the room, crawling atop the covers to gather the pale baronet's gaunt frame in her arms. Jostled by her movements, Anthony awoke and seeing that Edith held him, he briefly managed one last crooked smile before closing his brilliant blue eyes and slipping into oblivion. A mere two hours later, Anthony Strallan had drawn his last breath.

Eleanor had immediately rushed from the room, her husband following to comfort her. Edith remained on the bed, gently rocking Anthony in her arms and weeping.

"Oh Stewart, I ruined his life" she cried.

"Please my lady, that's not true at all" the valet tried to console the distraught young woman. "Sir Anthony's life these past ten years was much the same as before he met you. Books, tea in the library, attending to the affairs of the estate. The only difference being he didn't have visitors or pay calls and honestly, he was never comfortable dealing with society's expectations. Well, except where you were concerned. He took every opportunity to enjoy your company."

"But he had to leave Locksley and leaving killed him."

"Forgive me but if I might speak freely?" Stewart paused momentarily. "I was there... after that day at the church. And, even though Sir Anthony truly believed he acted in your best interests, the whole ordeal affected him terribly and he had to leave. Without your presence here at the estate, well, the memories were just too much for him. He loved you my lady, with every fiber of his being and I assure you, Sir Anthony would not have lived nearly as long had he not left."

The redhead was suddenly startled by a slight nudge to her elbow and turning, she saw her husband bow his head as the vicar began the burial rites. Once upon a time, Edith had mistakenly thought that Anthony's leaving her at the altar would be the most painful experience she'd ever endure in this life. Now though, listening to the vicar recite the words 'ashes to ashes and dust to dust' and watching as earth was ceremonially cast onto the lowered coffin, the Marchioness, her body wracked by sobs, realized nothing could compare to the grief she felt at that moment.

 _Twenty years later..._

A young man, of about nineteen, slowly walked alongside his mother towards the grave they frequently visited whenever his family returned to Yorkshire. As they came to a stop at the grave's marker, Anthony Herbert Pelham stared down at the tombstone, silently paying his respects to the man for whom he was named. His eyes scanned over the personal details chiseled into the marble, information he had long ago committed to memory.

 _ **Major Anthony Phillip Strallan, Bart.**_

 _ **Feb 22**_ _ **1867** **-** **Mar** **3** **1931**_

Beneath those dates lay an inscription, one obviously filled with great meaning. There was a story behind those letters carved in stone, of that, young Anthony was sure. One he'd not yet had the privilege of hearing but had certainly observed during each of his mother's visits. Once again, he watched in fascination has Edith knelt down, whispering softly has she brushed her fingers reverently across the letters of a solitary word... _**Always.**_

 **Well, we've finally come to the end. If you have time, I would certainly appreciate hearing your thoughts on this story. Thanks so much for reading. I appreciate each of you. xx**


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